Bayes' Theorem: "Música da Sra Bach/Mrs Bach's Music" by Alex McCall, and Irini Vachlioti

I've just watched this documentary and I'm still venting... I must get these vapors out of my system!

Why are people so credulous when it comes to classical music?

It's not limited to classical music. Why are people credulous? Well, for a great many reasons. In this case we have a confluence of several:

i) Bach's works have been analysed for hundreds of years, and little new information has emerged. That means it's hard for anyone to find anything new to say.

ii) its fits a nice contemporary narrative. Unquestionably, talented women have been repressed and marginalised throughout history, and only relatively recently have they received their deserved attention. This means that the potential rediscovery of another such women fits the scholastic zeitgeist, and so attracts the attention above its actual scholarly value. Twenty years ago we'd be asking if Bach's second marriage meant he was secretly gay. So it goes.

iii) the continued fascination with postmodernism in all facets of the arts mean that strong factual evidence is not actually a requirement, and people can be published on the basis of "analysis of penmanship" - a pseudoscience that makes phrenology look credible.

Probably the best way to debunk the silly claim that Anna Magdalena was the composer would be by applying Bayes' theorem to each of the categories of evidence. I have just read a fascinating book by a retired cosmologist who applies Bayes' theorem to argue that Shakespeare was not the author of the sonnets. If I have time I might do this with the Bach example but that's for another post. For now and very briefly, one would consider, firstly, the prior probability that Anna Magdalena was the composer (this would be low, since, for one thing, she is not known to be a composer). Then consider the conditional probability that Bach would do his best work given that he is married to Anna Magdalena. Finally consider the probability that he would do his best work given that he is not married to Anna Magdalena. Now I argue that the last two likelihood ratios are roughly equal hence the posterior probability would not be raised greatly, if at all, above the prior. Of course, I have only considered one category of purported evidence, that Bach did his best work after he married Anna Magdalena, but all the indications are that if all the categories are considered they will not greatly raise the prior if it is raised at all. QED.

It's a sad reflection on the current state of musicology that, rather than exploring important questions, like Bach's influences and influences on, his methods of composition and proper performance practice, someone spends their time on this ridiculous issue. Unlike a painting, the authenticity or otherwise doesn't affect anything of substance, and in this case it appears we can never know the truth. Would it make any difference anyway? Would we play, or listen to the works differently if we thought his wife wrote them?

I'm still waiting for someone to claim Bach was an alien hominid brought to earth by Erich von Däniken's extraterrestrial-friendly Mayans to further the Illuminati's centuries-old plan for world domination in conjunction with the Vatican, Tutankhamen, Scriabin, Leibniz, Elvis Presley and/or dolphins.

And we're back to questions of authorship, did Bach's wife write this, did the Earl of Oxford write Shakespeare's plays, does Victoria Beckham design her clothes – does it matter?

For art it only matters in financial terms, a different attribution can add a million quid on a painting, it's the same object before and after. It's why I prefer to look at the art in the Museu de Arte Antiga in Lisbon, mostly anonymous beautiful objects, the artists biography doesn't get in the way of seeing or hearing the work.

Bottom-Line: Bach tapped into extraordinary mathematical interplays in harmony that stretch the ear to its limit, even now, but all somehow made sense. However, one should not confuse the structural elegance with predictability. His greatest works are characterised by a sort of perpetual harmonic bifurcation: they could at any point unfold one way or the other or slip off another through relative major/minor devices. You never know which which way it will turn, you simply enjoy the harmonic journey Bach that pioneered, precisely because of his genius. He makes the unfamiliar seem familiar.

NB: If you wish to watch the above-mentioned documentary, it's here. Word of warning: The voice-over, in some parts, is in Portuguese. I think it's still watchable for those of you not conversant with Portuguese.

Baixo Contínuo Music: "A Brief Guide to William Shakespeare Without the Boring Bits" by Peter Ackroyd

People live their lives at such a faster pace these days, and all multi-threading, that it takes a real effort to consciously slow down and listen and watch to something. It's part of the joy, I suppose, at least for me. I think this problem of attention (or lack thereof) has as much to do with cultural expectations regarding how Shakespeare should be read, watched, you name it. I can listen to some “Baixo Contínuo” from the baroque period lasting for a couple of hours, but some people come and go, fall asleep, eat dinner, etc. At theatres and opera houses, boring opera or play can be wonderful to watch the world go by with. At least that’s what I hear. I quite understand that attention is context-dependent - maybe 'Baixo Contínuo music' was intended to be not listened to. Bach pieces composed for flute and harpsichord are a good example. Finding crappy books like this one is a bit like turning off love. Sometimes for the sake of the whole, one is prepared to cherish even the ragged fingernails and that odd snorting sound when she laughs, but we see the relationship is doomed from the start. A great deal of the Shakespeare books that aspire to greatness — and indeed achieve it — demand patience in our tackling of them. Is that too much to ask? In literature, I'm thinking of Rilke, Celan, Mann, and of course, Shakespeare. Onstage drama: “Measure for Measure” has hardly any plot but is full of beautiful poetry, which requires very good understanding of what’s going on — something singularly lacking in this book. When it comes to great works of fiction, does anyone really claims to have read only their lookalikes? All of Rilke, Celan, Hölderlin, the Titus Groan trilogy, several Dickens works et al, can we really read them by skipping the longer chunks and “gibberish” parts?

If you don’t like the way they talk and all the fancy words in Shakespeare, this book is for you.

NB: I bought it in a book fair, almost for nothing.

I’ve Been Rabbit-holing and I Just Came Out On the Other Side a Changed Man: “The Life of William Shakespeare: A Critical Biography” by Lois Potter and J. Paul Guimont (narrator)

Published 2013 (audio version, the one I’ve used; print edition published 2012).

Imagine yourself at the Globe to see a Shakespeare play, preferably Hamlet (my favourite…). Keep on imagining standing among the crowd, quite near the stage, on a rainy evening.  You look around and see people from all walks of life, from different countries and cultures, all mesmerized by the Bard's words...almost 400 hundred years later.   Imagine laughing so heartily with the rest of the audience, practically falling off your wooden chair. The actors are absolutely amazed and unbelieving at the rapturous applause they receive. You cheer them to the rafters. You start to have an inkling of how audiences of Shakespeare's own time must have received his plays. My reading of Shakespeare makes me “re-live” stuff like these. I feel his writing will allow me to deepen my own self-knowledge as well.

Just like water heated to 50º degrees does not increase the caloric intake, human thought peaks, in certain Men, to the highest intensity. Shakespeare, Rilke, Hölderlin, Celan, Kafka, Bach, Heine represent the 50º degrees of genius. In each century two or three undertake the ascension. From down below, we attempt the daunting task of following them. These Men climb the mountain with great difficulty, they penetrate the clouds, they vanish, and they reappear. They’re spied upon by us mere mortals.

What they do is was so very, very good at doing what they did, and they did so much of it so well that it really is quite unbelievable.  Their work is so good that many people do not believe that they were not touched by the Gods themselves. This is particularly true with Shakespeare. Some do not believe he alone wrote all the plays that are attributed to him, but the fact is that he almost certainly did do so, as hard as it can be to believe when you study Shakespeare.  Potter’s intertextual reading of his works shows that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Some creative people have been so far beyond their own time that they haven't always been completely understood during the years that they lived.  Bach, for instance, was a person like this.  His work just sounds finished in a way that other works are not. It's difficult to describe, but even people who don't know much about music recognize that there is something special about what Bach did.  You can feel it in your bones. Shakespeare works the same way.  The fact that the language has changed a good deal since Shakespeare's time makes it more difficult for me to see that at first, but with some pointers, I can clear away the confusion caused by that to recognize that his work is finished and special in that same way. Shakespeare holds up a literary mirror to the face of humanity and has forced us all to stare into its reality. That's what special about Shakespeare. For those of us who like to dabble in writing stuff, Shakespeare shows what genius can do with words and characters and situations.  His works are just overflowing with fantastic little titbits laying around to enjoy, but it does require that I know what it is that I’m looking at, and for that, sometimes I need the guidance of someone who already knows how to do it. And that’s where Potter’s glimpse into the mind of Shakespeare comes in. What a wonderful “read” it was. How fortunate I am, and how grateful, that I was able to find this book. Potter was able to open up some of the most profound thoughts and meditations on Being that have ever seen/heard recorded regarding Shakespeare. Once again, that most comforting and energising feeling that "I am not alone" when I read (or listen to) Shakespeare. Potter draws upon prior texts, genres and discourses on Shakespeare, Marlowe, Johnson that I didn’t even knew existed! In this regard, Potter’s book needs several re-readings. There are textual, intertextual, and sub-textual references aplenty that will take me more than one reading to fully understand. This meant go rabbit-holing which I did...The outputs of these wonderful adventures tapped into my understanding of Shakespeare. Go figure...

I’ve read quite a big amount of books on Shakespeare. Being able to write a biography of a figure at once so well-known and so little documented must have been a challenge.  His chapter “The Strong’st and Surest Way to Get: Histories” was quite a revelation [I’m (re-)reading the Histories at the moment) as well as Potter’s insights into the relation between Shakespeare, Thomas Middleton and Jonson. And when I thought I knew everything was there to know about Shakespeare, Potter comes along and rehashes old stuff into strikingly new ways. Oh my.

It was a pleasure to travel alongside Potter on this wonderful adventure!

I sing therefore I am: "One Day, One Choir - Singing for World Peace"

Following on the footsteps of last year's celebration, this world-wide singing event, this time taking place in Portugal at Campo Grande's Church, happened once again, also with the participation of our own choir of "N. S. do Amparo" (see picture above with N. S. do Amparo's choir members, myself included).

When I sat down to write this post I kept wondering. Why do I love choir singing? Does the question make any sense at all? Do I ask myself why I walk and talk and eat? Maybe the question should be "Why shouldn't I love singing in a choir" instead. For me singing sacred songs is first and foremost a way of giving voice to a strong emotion and sharing it with the world. On top of that, choir singing makes me feel good in several ways: lots of times when I’m engaged in something physical and enjoyable like walking, cycling or singing the oxytocin is released in my blood stream and I get "high"...I believe singing should be part of the national health service...Another reason for loving singing with others is that singing this way creates something which is greater than the individuals involved. This is one of the cases wherein the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. Last but not least, and because music came before language, music and singing in particular it's a fundamental aspect of the human condition, encoded into our human genome. We all feel the drive to sing, but not all of us feel prepared to break down barriers.  I started singing as a tenor when I met my wife, who's a wonderful contralto, and I never looked back.

When I hear Scholl singing Händel's "Ombra mai fu" (I've had the pleasure of hearing Scholl singing live several times, the last time in 2012 at Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, and he always delivers the goods...), we can understand why singing is one of the most important human endeavours. On hearing Bach I feel as if I am now fully satisfied since I have seen my Redeemer...Wenn ich Bach höre, bringt es mir die Tränen in die Augen...

At the end of the event, and as bonus, we had a free style performance at the organ by none other than Professor Leonor Cadete. Father Feytor Pinto commented at the time he didn't know he had a pipe organ in his church capable of producing such a strong and full of emphasis sound...

This year's event recording hasn't been made available yet. To whet one's appetite, here's "Laudate Dominum" from last year's performance. Also the full event can be found here.

NB: Rilke expressed it beautifully: "Gesang ist Dasein".

Eduardo Lourenço's Musical Jottings: “Tempo da Música, Música do Tempo” by Eduardo Lourenço, Barbara Aniello (editor)

Published 2012.

“Nós não pensamos nada, não há um homem propriamente pensante: nós ouvimos.”

(We don’t think at all, Man is not a really thinking Being: we listen.”

With one of his usual aphorisms, Eduardo Lourenço is able to sum-up not only his long coexistence with Music, but also his attitude of being a permanent listener. But listening to what?

Eduardo Lourenço is one of the few original thinkers able to hear the other, be it the President, or a taxi driver. His unquenchable thirst to devour everything on his path, made the act of listening to music a recurrent activity, maybe even more important than speech itself.

Unable to write about Lourenço’s writing, I humbly stand aside to make room for his own voice (my own loose translations from Portuguese into English).

“Ora nada mais propício do que a música para justificar o abismo que há entre senti-la e compreendê-la. É evidente que a maioria dos ouvintes de Bach não compreende a sua música: sente-a, faz um todo com ela no momento em que a ouve e nada mais. Mas isso acontece-lhe com toda a expressão musical. Sentir é o grau ínfimo da apropriação: é só um ouvir com os sentimentos possíveis de prazer, desprazer, deleite ou aborrecimento, em suma, um ouvir gostando ou não gostando.” (página 60)

(Well, nothing lends itself so well for the justification of the monumental gap between listening and feeling than music. It’s quite evident that the majority of the Bach listeners do not understand his music: they feel it, make a whole with it when listening to it, and nothing more. But that happens with all musical expression. Feeling is the smallest degree of ownership: it’s just a listening with the available feelings of pleasure, displeasure, delight, or annoyance, all in all, a like-it-or-not listening moment.” (page 60)

“Concerto de Bartók: quanto mais o ouço mais me convenço de que a líquida angústia de um mundo à procura do seu explodido coração encontrou na sua música a estrada real, a pura busca sincopada e em êxtase que nos dará o improvável futuro onde morte e vida serão apenas sonho.” (página 67)

(Bartók’s concerto: the more I listen to it, the more I convince myself that the liquid anguish of a world looking for its blasted heart has found in its music the real road, the pure syncopated search and in exaltation will give us the improbable future wherein death and life will be only dream.” (page 67)

“A fascinação da música reside no facto de ela tornar a palavra humana uma decadência e uma degradação. Ser homem torna-se então uma melancolia” (página 113)

(The fascination with music lies in the fact that it makes the human word a decadence and degradation. Then being human makes us melancholic.” (page 113)

“Aquilo que eu queria ser e não tenho coragem de ser, encontro nas suites de Bach”

“What I wanted to be, but I’m not brave enough to be, I find in the Bach Suites.”

"Certamente se um dia voltar para Deus, a nenhuma outra coisa o deverei senão a estas estradas de uma melancolia lancinante que, desde o canto gregoriano até Messiaen, devoram em mim o sentimento da realidade do mundo visível."

(If one day I return to God, if nothing else, I'll owe it to these roads of a heartrending wistfulness that from the Gregorian chant up to Messian, devour the feeling of reality of the visible world.)

A last word to the wonderful work of Barbara Aniello, a very able Italian researcher in music, art history, and musicology. This “tailoring and sewing” of Eduardo Lourenço’s manuscript pages must have been a real nightmare. For our utter delight, she was able to put into perspective all of these musical moments.)

The more I read Lourenço, the more I realize that his texts are not black and white, because his writing his mainly poetic even when he’s writing in a sort of prose.

(Between Wagner and Mahler; facsimile of a manuscript currently in the Gulbenkian collection)